


Under Certain Conditions

by Daiya_Darko



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Borderline Personality Disorder, Gen, Mental Instability, One-Sided Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-13
Updated: 2013-04-13
Packaged: 2017-12-08 08:42:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/759397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daiya_Darko/pseuds/Daiya_Darko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Man, it sucks when your brain is literally allergic to stress and any amount of it will send you careening down a slippery slope of slurred words and things you'll regret in the morning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Under Certain Conditions

If Jocelyn doesn’t stop nagging, Leonard’s pretty sure he’ll actually kill her. Like, literally crush her windpipe in his hands because she’s following him around the house while he tries to gather up his things and demanding he sign the papers he already did last week.

But of course she’s not listening to him. Oh no, Leonard McCoy M.D. can’t be trusted because he’s “insane” and “abuses alcohol.” The only time he has ever abused any form of alcohol was when Joanna got a nasty cut from a rusty fence, thank you very much, and that was of the isopropyl variety.

“You don’t listen to me, you don’t care about me, and you’re so selfish you won’t even let things die!” Jocelyn nearly screams at this point, and Leonard just _lets go._

He’s not supposed to let go. The school counselor in undergrad explained to him in very minute detail why abandoning all inhibitions while emotional was a _very bad idea,_ but she didn’t account for whiny wives who don’t appreciate the effort it takes to get out of bed every morning and earn money for their ungrateful asses.

“Shut the fuck up!” Leonard screams in her face. “I signed those goddamn pieces of paper last week and if you would bother to shut your whore mouth for a damn second and actually try listening _yourself_ for once, you would see that!” Oh no, no, this is bad. Leonard’s let go and now he can feel all the carefully practiced restraint sliding out of place, slipping between his fingers like a bloody scalpel.

Jocelyn’s face is stricken pale. She knows he’s officially crossed the line, passed the point of no return. She heeds his words though, and looks at the papers, her heart racing faster as she realizes her mistake.

“I’m so sorry, Len,” she begins, but Leonard cuts her off.

“You’re sorry?” He invades her space, scowling as he drops his bags, and draws himself up to his full height. “I’m sorry I ever married such a pathetic and worthless bitch such as yourself! I’m sorry I took your father’s sorry ass dowry in return for taking your fat ass off his hands for a while! You can’t do anything right, can you?” Leonard growls. He sees the tears streaming down her face and knows he’s gone too far. But it’s too late; it feels good to finally make her hurt just the way she’s made him hurt these past few months. He didn’t want things to come to this; he had been willing to compromise and work things out, but no, Jocelyn just had to make things complicated just like she always does.

And now she’s backed against the wall, hiccupping as tears run down her face. It’s stupid, really, because Leonard was raised better than to hit a woman Hell, he can’t even bring himself to spank Joanna, as mischievous a child she is, and lord knows she gets it from her father. Joanna got everything from her father: brains, charm, personality…

Hopefully not the glaring personality flaws.

At that thought, Leonard feels the anger rush out of him. This is the mother of his child, the woman responsible for bringing the light into his life. Sighing, he pulls Jocelyn in for a hug, ignoring the way she remains tense, shaking in his grip.

“Hush now,” Leonard runs a soothing hand over Jocelyn’s hair, savoring the smooth, thick feel of it. “I’m not gonna hurt ya. I’ll grab my stuff and be on my way.” He releases her, grabs his things, and walks out without another thought.

There’s so much to do and so little time. No one has time for mood swings.

But it always seems like mood swings have time for Leonard McCoy, which is truly unfortunate.

 

* * *

 

Leonard chugs down the last of his family’s traditionally distilled moonshine and throws the bottle against the back of the alley wall. He doesn’t even know where he is and honestly, _who fucking cares?_ All he knows is:

  1. He’s not in Atlanta.
  2. He’s not in Riverside.



And unless he’s in one of those places, he has no appearances to keep up. He’s just some crazed vagrant, drunk, dirty, and smelling like day old piss (not his, mind you). He brought along the moonshine because when would he be able to taste something so strong again? The moonshine was an old, family recipe from his paternal grandparents. They’d moved from the heart of the Appalachians to the southernmost tip, and brought with them the most important things: guns, an ungodly accent, and moonshine. Leonard thanks his lucky stars that his dad only grew up with half a West Virginian accent and his mother a soft Georgian one, because he’s not sure he could live with hearing himself talk like a hillbilly _and_ a redneck.

But here, wherever he is, god they sound so fucking country. And it’s not even like Ole Miss where he could at least understand what they were saying. No, this accent is grating on his nerves like the dry heat and _how can it be so hot at night?_

Leonard catches a glance at an old pickup truck with bullhorns coming from the engine. _Father, why have thou forsaken me in –_

“Texas y’all!” Some spring breakers scream as they run down the street.

If he’s going to make it to Iowa, Leonard decides he’s going to need to be much drunker than this.

 

* * *

 

Jim Kirk is all bruises and daddy issues and brash fear and Leonard can just _smell_ it on him. Crazy recognizes crazy, you know, and there is no way on God’s green earth James T. Kirk isn’t the slightest bit crazy.

From the first time they met (Leonard isn’t too proud to admit that he’s made better first appearances), he knew the kid was trouble. Trouble wrapped up in bright, blue eyes and a pretty mouth that spit the nastiest and most charming words this side of the galaxy.

Oh, Leonard doesn’t just have it bad – he is _miserable_.

Because he still isn’t over Jocelyn, and thinking about her just makes him sad. Looking sad in front of Jim makes Jim treat him like an old man and then disappear after some happy little co-ed who didn’t have more baggage than the DSM-L has diagnoses for Leonard.

Jim is like a big, pretty drink at a cheap bar: it’s gonna taste good for the first hour and terrible later, but that doesn’t stop you from ordering more.

Jim is going to kill him, and sometimes, Leonard thinks, that’s okay. After all, he’s got no visitation rights to his daughter, no practice, no license ( _because I’m not in the southeast,_ Leonard thinks in a whiny, nasally voice), and he’s old enough to be most of Starfleet’s dad, had he made some more poor decisions in high school. He’s bitter, he drinks a lot, his classes are too easy since, you know, _he’s an actual fucking doctor who already dealt with this bullshit,_ and he’s pining after a young, tight piece of ass that he has no chances of getting.

At least when they’re doing risky, dumb things Leonard feels happy. Not that he’d give Jim the satisfaction of knowing that, however. He likes Jim, but that cocky, know-it-all attitude…someone should just beat it out of him.

Or fuck it out of him.

Depends on how Leonard’s feeling that day.

Yeah, the mood swings don’t stop, but they seem to be stuck on “snappy” and “go fuck yourself.”  Fortunately, never do they ever get to “oh shit” levels where he almost has a psychotic break ( _almost, Len? Don’t patronize yourself_ ) and nearly kills someone.

He’s gotta keep it together for the sake of getting a decent job in Starfleet. The mood swings will have to wait until finals are over.

 

* * *

 

Well, all in all, Leonard would rate the Narada Incident 8/10. He was surrounded by people just as confused and angry as he was, he got to yell at people, and he was also promoted! Also, his best friend received a promotion, even if he did have to nearly die twice just to get it.

Everything is going so smoothly; Leonard’s half-tempted to send a vid message to Jocelyn of the captain of the Star Ship Enterprise sucking his cock, but he decides that’s probably too much.

And she doesn’t deserve to get to see something so beautiful.

Not that Jim has sucked his cock or given any indication that he would like to; it’s just a nice thought in the back of Leonard’s mind, along with the ever nagging thought of all those people who died in such a short amount of time. It’s not even like he knew any of them personally; it’s the principle of the matter.

Graduating class of two thousand twenty-four cut down to two hundred thirteen.

Usually, if no one brings it up, Leonard’s fine, but something will remind him, maybe a small message scratched into the wall on deck four, “I will always remember you, Lisa Crenshaw,” and Leonard will just _sigh._ It’s one of those sighs that used to mean back on earth, “I’m going to go lie down for the rest of the day and I’m not speaking to anyone short of a medical emergency.”

But he’s Chief Medical Officer Leonard McCoy now. He’s Lieutenant Commander Leonard McCoy now. He can’t just run away when his emotions get the best of him and ride them out alone. He can't just hide away from the world when everything becomes  _too much._

So he drags himself back to work, buries himself in paper work, and stands on the bridge by Jim just to _fucking ground himself_ and remember that the one good thing in his life is still here: Jim.

Jim doesn’t ask why Leonard’s not in sickbay, and for that matter, neither does anyone else. Maybe they’re just too scared of a potential outburst to say anything, or maybe they give proper respect to rank.

“How are you doing, Bones?” Jim asks with that casual tone that says, _“Look, we’re friends and we both have power. Isn’t this perfect?”_

Leonard just wants to drag him out that chair and choke him against the console. Spock’s a lucky bastard.

The thought freezes Leonard in his place, because _holy shit why am I thinking like that? He didn’t even do anything._

Jim raises an eyebrow, and it takes all of Leonard’s strength not to beat it down.

“I’m feeling a little under the weather today, Jim,” he lies, because lying is the only thing he knows how to do now.

Like hell he was going to put _Borderline Personality Disorder_ on his medical form when applying to Starfleet. Like _hell._

Leonard excuses himself, and locks himself in his office because he can feel one of those rare breakdowns coming on. He hates these, because he doesn’t know how long they’ll last or what he’ll do when it comes. One time it lasted for ten minutes; the other time it lasted the entire day and he had to cancel appointments – _important_ appointments.

Looking at his hands usually helps. If his hands are steady, he’s good. Even when he was a functioning alcoholic, his hands would never shake. It’s only during the _episodes –_

“Doctor?” Chapel calls from outside. “I know you said not to let anyone in, but – “

“Enter authorization code 9-9-9-Alpha-Charlie-Oscar, Captain James T. Kirk,” Jim fires off, and the door opens, sealing immediately when Jim is through.

Leonard stares at him helplessly. Is this Jim’s form of showing care and affection? After all these years of him just patting him on the back and suggesting a bar crawl to deal with these unhealthy emotions? Could Jim really be so blind? Crazy recognizes crazy, and Jim’s looking kinda unfamiliar right now.

“You shouldn’t have come here, Jim,” Leonard warns. He notices his leg bouncing erratically, and clamps a hand over it.

“Bullshit. You’re my best friend and you’re clearly unwell.” Jim’s gaze softens, and he asks, “What’s going on, Bones? You’ve been jumpy, snappy, and more skittish than usual.”

“Yeah, because after the Narada I would be so perfectly balanced, wouldn’t I?” Leonard barks, and he bites his lip. He didn’t mean to yell. Oh, this is already going sour faster than fresh milk in the summer sun.

Jim approaches his desk slowly, raising his hands in defense. “I know. It’s hard. We’re all dealing with it in our own ways, but if there’s something I can do, anything – “

“Did you know that I’ve fantasized about killing you?” Leonard blurts out. He’s very aware of how wrong that is, especially right now, but dammit, Jim is showing him the most attention he’s gotten since they boarded this damn ship. He’s not going to lose it now by pretending to be normal.

Leonard breaks out into a grin, continuing, “I’ve thought about it since we were at the academy. God you’re such an annoying little shit. You just leap without looking and you dragged me along. For some reason, I thought maybe you would like me more if I did that same thing, brought you on here without thinking. If I hadn’t brought you on this ship, we would have _all_ died, and sometimes, that’s the only thing that gets me to sleep at night: me being dead.”

And suddenly, Leonard’s crying. He’s not just manly crying, with slow single tears and clenched fists. His whole body shakes as he sobs, bellowing with a built up pain that he had tried to numb so many times with alcohol and work. But this isn’t what he wants, this isn’t helpful or productive.

It sucks knowing you’re broken and not being able to fix yourself.

Jim is there, holding Leonard in his arms while he sobs like a pathetic little child. And then Leonard’s _angry,_ because of course Jim Kirk would be there, saving him. Jim Kirk, savior to mankind. His best friend just admitted to fantasizing about murdering him and Jim comforts him anyways. Jim is a beautiful, perfect human being and anyone who doesn’t think so is just ignorant.

“Bones,” Jim whispers, “I’m not going anywhere. I’ll always be here for you, no matter what. Even if you say you want to kill me. It’s okay; you and Cupcake probably have something in common.”

That gets a laugh out of Leonard, and sure as stars are bright, he’s fine. Leonard sits up, wipes his eyes, and grumbles, “Alright, Captain Gladass, get back to the bridge. I’m fine.”

Jim releases him, but doesn’t move. “You were upset just a second ago. Are you saying my dumb joke cured you?”

There’s the anger again. “I don’t have time to wallow in my emotions, Jim!”

“You…”

Leonard shoots up and grabs Jim by his neck, and in that moment, he sees something, something strangely familiar.

_Jocelyn._

“You have known me for years and you never once asked me why I got a divorce,” Leonard states plainly, releasing Jim from his hold. Jim relaxes, coughing as he gets his breath back.

“Well it didn’t seem like much of my business and you hated filling out basic information for paperwork, so I knew asking you to talk about it would get me nowhere,” Jim explains, sounding annoyed. “What’s this all about? You’re anxious one minute, crying the next, happy for like five seconds and then you try t choke me out, and then you wanna talk about the quality of our friendship!”

“I’m crazy, okay?” Leonard snaps, and man it feels good to just say that out loud. “I’m crazy. I…I have a disorder, and I’m not on medication for it. I have to…I have to get therapy for it, but I manage.” Leonard explains, hesitantly. He pauses, waiting for Jim’s reaction. Upon receiving none, he continues, “I was getting help, I was off the pills, and I was fine. I had a contigency plan for everything, how to deal with life, but then I started slipping. I got caught up in my work, I got caught up in expectations as a father, husband, and a doctor. When I began getting stressed out, all that therapy? It went to shit. Jocelyn was terrified of me, and I think Joanna was too. She’s so young, and I tried to keep it away from her, but moments…” Leonard shakes his head, looking down in shame. “I couldn’t keep a lid on it all the time. Jocelyn wanted me gone, and I did too. I got low, started drinking, and somehow wandered my way to Riverside. I got into Starfleet and tried to put on “normal” for me, and it worked. I just don’t do stress very well.” Leonard smiles apologetically, as if stress is the answer for why he sometimes wants to kill himself or other people.

And honestly, it is. BPD is a funny thing like that.

“Bones, I’m really glad you finally told me that,” Jim begins cautiously, taking a step back. “I’m going to put you on leave for a week.”

Leonard’s smile drops faster than he can stop himself from punching Jim in the face. “You can’t do that! I’m a doctor! Are you discriminating against me because of my condition?”

Jim quickly pulls Leonard into a lock, forcing him face first against a wall. “I’m your captain, and I think you will serve my crew better after you get a week to decompress. We’ve been through a lot recently, and yes, some people handle it better than others. You know better than anyone else that not everyone heals at the same rate, and not by the same methods,” Jim leans his forehead against Leonard’s neck, and Leonard swears he hears sniffling.

“Bones, you are the most stubborn, old fool I have ever met, but you mean the world to me. If you care about me at all, you’ll take the leave without any more fight. Get yourself together. If you need medication, _take it,_ I don’t care. Just come back to me in a week like the Bones in school, the one without the stashes of alcohol, the one who didn’t cry or punch things at the drop of a hat.”

Jim steps back, and lets Leonard go. Defeated, Leonard has no choice but to acquiesce to Jim’s demands.

He _is_ captain, after all.

 

* * *

 

It gets easier from there, but not by much. For one, Leonard doesn’t like medication. He’s a dumbass, he’ll admit it, but he’s just bad at remembering, so he sets an alarm on his watch. It’s the kind of thing you do for a mindless child, not a high-ranking Starfleet officer.

Secondly, stress is hard to avoid on a ship whose captain _insists_ on taking away missions. It takes all his resolve not to slap Jim silly whenever he comes back with some wound or, god forbid, an allergic reaction to yet _another damn thing._

“You’re as sensitive as a petri dish,” Leonard grumbles good-naturedly while giving Jim hypos. He won’t lie; they’re the one good thing about Jim coming back puffy and itchy. Seeing him whine and complain is always worth it.

“Yeah and your mother has back hair like a bear,” Jim responds.

“Been hanging around Chekov, have you?”

“He’s the funniest person on the bridge when he’s not trying. Imagine when he _is,_ ” Jim laughs, and man it feels good to hear that. It means things are okay right now.

Leonard has to work on focusing on “now” and not “what if” because he realized that makes him also _very stressed out._ He goes to the bridge when he starts those thoughts, because being around Jim grounds him in the present. Jim is like a lighthouse in a storm of emotion, and Leonard will swim to him every time, rocky shores be damned.

It’s worth it for a few minutes of golden peace, to be out of his element and away from responsibilities. He can close his eyes and listen to the quiet beeps and orders exchanged by the officers, know that this is where he is right now: safe. His best friend is here too: safe. People he trusts, including Spock of all people are here, and they would do their best to keep him safe (and he admits, he would too, Hippocratic Oath or not).

The fears and concerns and all those bad emotions are always right there, waiting to take over at any moment, but Leonard can live with it because he’s not the only person who accepts him for it. Jocelyn may have understood, but she never accepted it.

Jim gives him a quick, reassuring smile, and Leonard returns it with a quick nod. 

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to read more fics about mental health in this fandom, so I wrote from what I know personally: my psychiatrist says I may be borderline. I looked into it, and it's a very thin line between that and bipolar disorder (what I'm confirmed to have). I chose BPD for Bones because he's usually pretty ok until you put him into a certain situation and then all bets are off on how he's going to react (if he chooses to. Man, gotta love BPD).


End file.
